


Cracking Glass

by Secretness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Power, Child Abuse, From his time at Hogwarts, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Veritaserum, Young Severus Snape, abusive teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretness/pseuds/Secretness
Summary: Mistrust at an Order meeting leads to unveiling more about Severus Snape than even Dumbledore knew.





	Cracking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> So, 8-4:30 new job training starting finals week in nursing school, a car accident that gave me a fucked up hand, and a dead friend. That was one of the worst week in my life, but a stranger made it just a little better. Thank you to Whispering_Sumire for giving me a smile when I needed one.

Veritaserum.

Colorless, odorless, tasteless in minute quantities--Snape knew all of that, of course he did, but he was not expecting it, not at Grimmauld Place with Dumbledore a couple meters from him. He was not alert to avoiding being drugged at an Order meeting.

The Dark Lord had been back only a few months now, and things were already falling apart. Dumbledore had brought in several people from his thousands of connections--a woman known as Icon, who was of large popularity in the music industry, and among the men in the Order. If Snape had to bear witness to Black drooling or attempt at flirting with her again, he would vomit. There was another woman who remained cloaked and never spoke. Admittedly, Snape was curious about her. Alter Quillt, a Daily Prophet writer; Jenny Blathtin, who was student body leader of the only post grad wizarding education institution on the side of the continent; and several old Hogwarts teachers--Professor Gauge and Healer Martin Worthburry were from before Severus’ school days. Professor Mickton, who used to be the Quidditch referee, later replaced by Madam Hooch, now helped train several professional Quidditch teams. And there was Douglas Smite, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from Snape’s second year. Snape avoided all contact with him. At first he wondered if he should have a very difficult discussion with Dumbledore, but Smite now worked in the Department of Mysteries, and they could not afford to lose him. Besides, Smite had not acknowledge Severus yet in any of the meetings, so Snape pretended the man was nonexistent and tried his best to convince himself that was okay.

All of that was off-topic though. Veritaserum did that, made people lightheaded, made the mind wander. That way it was easier for it to rip truth from someone.

Snape looked at all the faces watching them. The room was silent. They were waiting; they all knew; they were in on it. This is not a rogue drugging. It was planned by the group. His eyes moved to Dumbledore. The old man looked sadly at him. Snape said nothing--that was his best defense right now--but Albus didn't really need the unasked question voiced.

"I'm sorry, Severus," he said quietly, "You have allowed me to tell nothing about you. They are unconvinced of your faithfulness, and all I can do is assure them I completely trust you and tell that I have reasons they cannot know. What I say is not good enough anymore. They are scared and jumpy, and they do not trust you… I can speak for you."

"And what would you say?" Snape asked softly in his dangerous voice, "The truth would make them trust me and also hate me. The situation would be no better."

Dumbledore bowed his head in sorrow or pity, Snape didn't know.

"Accio Severus Snape's wand!" Black said, brandishing his own wand.

Muscles in his arms tensed, but he forced himself to sit still and allow his wand to jump free from his pocket and zoom down to Sirius Black's hated hand. 

"I will take that," Moody growled, plucking it from Black's fingers with a nod to Dumbledore.

Lupin spoke softly, "We've established ground rules. Only on-task questions and yeses and nos."

"Do you tell us everything from your Death Eater meetings?" Kingsley asked.

"No," Snape said at once.

"Why not?"

"Because I feel body parts, rape, and dead children are not relevant to or wanted by you."

The room shuffled uncomfortably. Good, they deserved it. He hoped they’d pursue that line of questioning. He would give the truth they so desperately wanted, so much truth they'd vomit and beg him the stop.

"Whose side are you on, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"I followed Dumbledore now, as he has told you."

"You used to be a Death Eater but no more?" Lupin asked.

"I am a Death Eater as long as I do what the Dark Lord requests. For purposes of this potion you've given me, I am a Death Eater but only of as long as Dumbledore requires. I am a traitor to the Dark Lord and thwart him when I am able."

"This convinces me," Lupin said, looking around at the room.

"Yes, Remus, but you were against this from the beginning," Sirius told him.

Black turned to Snape again, seemingly desperate to catch him on something, and said, "They have agreed that you cannot be asked about why you spy."

The relief didn't show on Snape's face or in his body language, but it was immense.

Black spoke again, "Why do you spy?"

"Sirius!" Lupin snapped.

A few others exclaimed as well, but all the noise was quickly hushed as they turned their eyes, and ears, to him.

"I…" Snape swallowed, his for the mind working to tell the truth in an alternate way.

"I became a spy for Dumbledore because he said he would protect the woman I love and her family."

Silence met his cool words again but no eyes this time.

"Did it work?" Tonks asked quietly, watching the ripples in the wood table, "Were you successful?"

"No."

Dumbledore finally piped up, "It would be cruel to continue questioning him on this topic."

"Agreed," said Bill Weasley.

"Do you ever withhold information intentionally from us?" Black pushed.

"Yes, I have already stated that I do," Snape replied shortly.

"Are there things relevant to the Order you haven't told us or Dumbledore?"

"Yes," said Snape, unsure why at first.

"What kind of things?"

This time Snape caught the answer as it sprang to his brain. For a couple seconds horror showed on his face.

He mouthed without breath and finally said, "The kind of thing that in no way is related to the Dark Lord."

"But it's related to the Order?"

Snape pressed his palms on the table and spread his fingers out, their tips twitching.

"Yes… but--"

He wanted to claim they were in no danger, but in truth he didn't know for sure. He didn't know how Douglas Smite had changed.

"It's more personal than anything."

"Personal, pertaining to the Order, and Dumbledore doesn't know? This is exactly what we wanted to know, Snape."

Severus could see Sirius getting excited again, greedy for a victory.

"Black, it’s not at all what you think."

He could hear the urgency in his own voice and knew what was intriguing more than just Black.

Severus tried to breathe, but all the people watching him, bearing down on him like bloodthirsty animals made his breath a near impossibility. He stood and   
walked around the back of his chair to the door. Daring to try, he grasped the knob, but of course it wouldn't turn. The door was sealed, and without his wand he couldn't get out. He closed his eyes and put his hands on the crease of the door and it's frame, resting his forehead against them.

"Albus, please," Snape quietly pleaded.

"I cannot vouch for you if I do not know what it is. Tell me, Severus. What is all of this about?"

"Me!" Snape snapped, turning back around, "When I was in school and--and--" the potion ripped it from him, "and Smite."

"You garbage of a man!" Douglas Smite shot, pushing past Elphias Dodge and Kingsley to stand beside the table, "You brag about your control, but you can't even resist a god damn potion!"

Dumbledore stood a little straighter, and asked Severus, "Is this about when he was your teacher?"

"Yes."

Douglas Smite smiled, and told the group, "Even then he was a vile, disgusting 12-year-old."

"There is no one who could be more vile than you," Snape said, his voice less confident than when usually insulted people.

Smite took several growling footsteps towards him. Severus flung his right hand out as if it could be a barrier between them, more than painfully aware that he didn't have his wand.

"You will stay away from me," he commanded, uncertainly stepping back.

To his surprise, Lupin stood and sidestepped into Smite's path without a word.

Gritting his teeth to the point pain, Snape did his best to hold on to calmness. This, of course this of all things, he could barely hold at bay. Even so, he clenched his hands together so no one would see them trembled. It would have been easier to ignore it all completely until the day he died. It would've been easier to hunt the cursed man down and kill him. Then he could move on, but to have him so close was difficult. For this man to be here with nearly every person Severus knew for them to hear about this from his own lips, the shame was almost more than he could bear. Such humiliation would disallow him from looking any one of these people in the face ever again.

"What happened with the two of you?" Albus asked, watching Smite unwaveringly.

"He--we..." Severus took a deep breath and focus himself.

"He was nice to me, so when he told me to sit--sit on his lap, I didn't want him to be angry with me."

The disgusted looks Snape was accustomed to being directed at him shifted to Douglas. Arthur Weasley rose from his chair.

Snape continued, "At first it was just that. I didn't care, but when he started touching me…. I told him no, but he said it was fine and not to worry. Sometimes   
when he met with students he put me under his desk to touch him, and if I didn’t he kicked me. Sometimes teachers came in. I didn't think Slughorn would care, but McGonagall--I thought maybe she'd do something. When he wanted more… painful things, I screamed and fought, and he said he'd hurt McGonagall and get a new boy--one that wasn't as ruined as me…"

Snape swallowed hard, dislodging the quiver that threatened his voice. He was in control. This psychopath would not get the better of him. From the far end of the table Arthur Weasley came around and planted himself firmly between Snape and Lupin.

"I'm sorry, Albus," Snape mumbled.

"Sorry? You have no reason to be," Dumbledore said, his voice abnormally low and dangerous, eyes still on Douglas, "Why did you not say anything to me when I   
allowed him into the Order?"

"Because he was valuable, and none of the children were young enough for his taste. He left me alone. I found no reason to bring all this up."

"You son of a bitch," Lupin said suddenly, "You required all of us to have private tutoring to make sure we kept up."

"And you were pretty for a boy," Douglas said, casually, "More than once I thought about you. Severus was pale and weak--very easy, but you had your own appeal. But if I touched you, you certainly would've told. Severus was all alone. No one cared; he was a safe choice. I knew he was watching you to make sure I didn’t   
get anything more than visual entertainment from you. More than once I said your name at… precise moments."

"Lupin," Snape said.

No, Severus Snape never liked Remus Lupin, but even as adults, he couldn't handle such close talk about a child. The Dark Lord didn’t much care as long as the   
child wasn’t pureblood, but he always allowed Severus to leave before such abhorrent acts were committed.

Lupin backed up, a repulsed look on his face. When he drew even with Arthur, he stopped and glanced back. Snape was watching him intently.

"He never hurt me, and he never will," Lupin told him.

Smite took a few steps closer. Arthur withdrew his wand from his sleeve and pointed at Smite's chest.

"Oh come on. You people hate him. It doesn’t matter that he goes off and gets tortured mentally and physically. He's no more part of this group than he was of any back then. Now all of a sudden you care? How touching," Douglas spat, as if amused.

"Someone who violates children is not someone I will stand to be in the same building with, not someone I will see go unpunished and free," said Arthur.

"I am not at all afraid of you," Douglas told him, "I'll just wait for this flare of caring for Severus' welfare to die down."

"I will not allow you to get him."

"That fancy blood magic you have on your kids for protection, that won't work on him. You can’t always have eyes on him."

Arthur took two steps back until his back was nearly pressed against Snape's chest and dropped his wand hand. With the other one, he reached behind him and grasped Snape's wrist. It was the Veritaserum, the lightheadedness, that made Severus allow it. Arthur pulled his arm out. A sharp sear pain engulfed his hand. His fingers twitched as he fought the instinct to pull back. Some tiny part of him was hurt that Arthur, after all the show, had done something to cause him pain.

Weasley released his arm, leaving the 3 cm cut free to bleed, and raised his own hand. In his wand’s place, Arthur now held a knife of pure silver, one with three blades that met at a focal point. Snape's blood streaked one of them. Arthur pulled a second edge across his own skin, blood rising up around the metal. His eyes never left Douglas Smite.

Arthur held the knife aloof with barely a grasp on it. For a split second, Snape was genuinely confused and growing concerned over the usage of his blood, but   
then the knife shot out of Arthur’s loose fingers and straight into the hand of his wife.

Still seated, Molly Weasley gripped the knife and used the third and last edge of the blade to draw her own blood. She quickly set the knife down, placed her wand tip on the handle, and began mumbling a string of syllables. As the room watched, the blood disappeared from the knife.

"Now it will," Arthur said, taking the conversation back up, "Any harm to him will be known to my family, and his location will be instinctive. We have claimed him."

Severus' mind froze. What? What kind of magic did they do to him? Would it affect him spying? Then slowly an embarrassingly stupid part of his chest was lightened a bit. Did Molly and Arthur Weasley really claim him? Just where magic was concerned probably. Was it just that they saw him as Smite did--a helpless, pathetic outcast?

"He needs to leave, Dumbledore," Sirius said, speaking up again, "I won't have him around."

"None of us will," McGonagall said from the other side room, "Especially when the entire reason he's here is to watch Severus and maybe Remus. He's gotten away with far too much for far too long."

Several other people added their two cents about it, but it quickly turned to silence, all eyes on Dumbledore, who was eyeing Smite calculatingly.

Finally he said, "We need him."

People groaned and jumped to argue, but Dumbledore held his hand up for silence and continued, "Severus said nothing because Douglas was valuable in the Department of Mysteries. That still remains true. You don't have to like it; you don’t have to like him, but we need him."

“Snape's loyal to you," Charlie Weasley said, "He does everything for you, and you're just going to let his rapist waltz around without punishment? You're going to make him see this disgusting piece of shit-–"

"I understand," Snape said suddenly, "The Order is at a disadvantage as it is. This can't be helped."

"How can we claim to fight evil when we align ourselves with this kind of person? What does that make us?"

"Desperate," Snape said, "Perhaps even Slytherin, but it doesn't matter. If we need him, we do, and that's all there is to it."

The room shuffled in an uncomfortable silence.

Dumbledore spoke directly to Douglas Smite, his voice carrying all the threat necessary, "Do not take this for forgiveness or escapence, and do not be foolish   
enough to think I will not put you in the ground if you cross us. You will never come early, and you will always leave first. When the children are here, you are not to be around. In such an instance, I will meet and inform you privately. Understand?"

Smite’s jaw tightened as if he wanted to argue, but even he wouldn't dare to further Albus’ anger at this point. Instead he smiled in a sickening way and bowed in agreement.

"I think we are finished here today. I trust you are satisfied was Severus's position?"

Collectively they nodded and began to shuffle out, some gratefully and with relief, others grudgingly, throwing deadly looks at Smite and wishing him all ill. Snape, Lupin, Arthur, Smite, and Dumbledore stood in place, waiting for the others to leave. With steady clunks, Moody limped over and offhandedly held out Snape’s wand. Severus took it immediately. The smooth wood back in his fingers was calming. He ran his hands along it and slid it securely up his sleeve. Moody hauled himself away without a word or eye contact. Molly ushered her adult sons away to keep them out of trouble. Only Black lingered. He paced closer until he could place his hand on his friend's arm.

"Come on, Remus," he mumbled, pulling the man forward before he could answer.

Lupin looked back at Severus sorrowfully, but Snape looked away. He would not allow others to pity him. He would never be so pathetic.

Dumbledore pointed to the door, his mouth a McGonagall trademark thin line. Douglas moved towards the exit, Dumbledore behind him. When Smite turned through the door, his lips quirked, and he winked at Snape. It was subtle, done so well Dumbledore didn't even see it. Severus took one shuddering breath and put the man from his mind. He could go back to being furious about the Veritaserum now, but just as that thought crept into his mind, Arthur Weasley began to march in quick, determined steps.

He left the room and turned into the hall. Something about the movement was curious enough to make Severus follow, albeit with a suppressed eye roll. The man was going to do something stupid, he knew it.

As he rounded the corner, he heard first one thump, then a second accompanied by a muffled scream. Severus eased his way around, keeping out of sight until he knew what was going on.

Arthur's voice met his ears in the silence, and it was considerably more sinister than he had ever known it to be.

"Make sure you listen," Arthur growled, "I don't care what Dumbledore says. I don't care how valuable you are. You are nothing but slime, and if you go near any child again, especially mine, if you talk to or so much as look at Severus again, if I find you alone with him, I will slit your throat top to bottom and take great pleasure in watching you suffocate on your own blood. Clear?"

Smite must have made some silent affirmation because Severus heard a frantic shuffle, and the front door open and slammed. Snape proceeded carefully down the hall. The wall, where he assumed Smite had been thrown against, had a slice in it encircled by fresh blood. In Arthur's left hand, he held the three bladed knife now all edges dripping dark red with the same blood, and in his right hand was his wand.

Softly Snape said, "That was a little dark for you, Arthur."

Arthur looked up, unconcerned that Snape had heard.

"Children should be defended at all costs," he said.

"I am not a child," Snape told him forcefully.

"No," Arthur said with a frown, pulling a cloth from his pocket to clean the knife, "The more I learn about you, the more I doubt you ever were one. That doesn't mean the abused 12-year-old can't still be defended. I'm sorry it's come so late."

Arthur pocketed both the clean knife and his wand. He took a couple steps closer and placed a hand on Snape's arm, knowing full well it might get blown to bits in response. He stood a small fraction shorter than Severus but tall enough to look him in the eyes. Arthur didn't try to smile reassuringly, didn't bother with encouragement or pity. He just squeezed Severus' arm, let go, and disappeared down the dark all.

And for once, Severus Snape felt touched, honored almost--which was of course ridiculous. Nothing that happened in the last hours changed anything. He would still see Douglas Smite, and he would still avoid everyone else. Perhaps he was a little relieved to be relatively certain he was the only boy to suffer that year at school, but even then, what did such knowledge do? If Lupin had suffered as he did, there was nothing he could do to change that. There was nothing Arthur Weasley could do to change it, yet the man found it worth his while to act as if he could. It was a ridiculous notion really, but something about it had put to rest a tiny piece of Severus' past.

But it was still inconsequential. And illogical. Nothing had changed.

Prying his feet from the spot on the moldy carpet, he reached for the door, opened it, and disappeared into the remaining shadows of the night.


End file.
